Islands By Kim Morales

Islands

I should stand on the edge of Long Island,
we’ve moved to islands
We’re always on an island
PR, DR, Flores and now here
I am onto and on myself

wind chill air blue and freezing still

where I live is one big beach

I should stand on the shore
until they don’t want me there
and then I will drown myself
like the lazy Tainos
that my mother told me about —
I am my father’s daughter
“that fat brown girl no one taught her
how to swim”
My fault by my father’s error
but no one blame’s him

I asked you:
what have we agreed upon
regarding the cold?
did we decide
we’re missing limbs or only starving?
we lost ourselves in the middle of fingering and
the cold lost its meaning —

the cold doesn’t seem like the thing it was

once you get inside you forget how cold she blew you,
she cracked, she flaked,
she sleeted all over your face,
she killed the homeless man on Skid Row,
she took your house in 2008,
she makes your children go to school,
she makes you pay up front,
she sent you to the hospital,

but
we forget what it is once we get inside

once we get inside —
oh how our bodies deceive us —
they make you think want
they make you what, think,
remember you’re ashy lips,

I should stand on a bridge
with one walkway  and
believe you
I am not ugly
while the night
pressed upon an orange light
washed out the cold’s face.

I am a moron, I am a lunatic.
I forced you to say,
I forced him to stay,
I will force myself to leave now
I have to go, I have to go

they don’t want me homeless,
they want you dead

they don’t want me — they want me

the cold is changing — I can’t tell — I’m confused — I’m jealous — I’m confused — I’m angry –
I’m confused —
and I’m sad

I’m on the island —
I’m  off the island
I’m in the jungle
There is no jungle

I’m brown — I’m confused —
I’m not black, I’m  not white — I’m confused —
I’m neither, I’m  both and three, I’m everything — I’m confused —
I’m a mutt, my parents are dead,  my dad owned my mother —
I’m confused —
my brother is darker than me
but I’m inside the house — I don’t feel cold —
I’m confused — I don’t go outside —
I’m confused — the sun doesn’t touch me–
I’m confused– my skin —
I’m confused– is it money —
I’m confused — is it both —
I’m confused —

By Kim Morales

Biography:

I am from Brooklyn, NY. I am of Guatemalan and Puerto-Rican descent. I am currently attending LaGuardia Community College.

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